


Mother's Intuition

by MacPherson



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: COURFERRE MOMS, Coming Out, F/F, Kidfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-08-16 09:59:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8097760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MacPherson/pseuds/MacPherson
Summary: Combeferre and Courfeyrac aren't regular moms--they're cool moms. And one night, their eldest kid has something to say.





	

“Moms, can I talk to you about something?”

Combeferre pushes her reading glasses to the top of her head and looks up to find her eldest child standing there, hands twisting. “Of course! Would you like to join us here on the couch, or is this something we should talk about over hot chocolate?”

“Well, first of all, Mom is on the floor, not the couch.”

“My feet are on the couch!” Courfeyrac protests.

“And I think hot chocolate is a good idea.”

“Alright, let’s do this!”

Combeferre places her pile of papers to grade on the coffee table, and Courfeyrac closes her book with a snap.

“So, kiddo,” Courfeyrac says as they enter the kitchen. “How do you feel about marshmallows, whipped cream, and peppermint this evening?”

“All three please,” Geoffrey says from his customary spot at the table.

Combeferre leans out from behind the refrigerator door, where she’s fetching the milk. “All three? Are you sure?”

Geoffrey nods. “Yup.”

“All three it is, then,” Combeferre emerges with a carton of milk and a can of whipped cream.

“So,” Courfeyrac begins once they’re all satisfied with the contents of their mugs, “do you want to just jump right into whatever you want to bring up, or should we pretend to talk about the weather for a while first?”

“I think I’m a girl,” Geoffrey blurts out, staring down into the mug.

“Okay.” Combeferre nods once.

“Yup,” Courfeyrac adds, agreeing with her wife.

“That’s… it?” Geoffrey’s eyes flit back and forth between moms. “You’re making this seem like it isn’t a big deal. I thought this would be a bigger deal.”

“Sweetie, we love you.” Courfeyrac says. “Our job as parents is to guide you through childhood and do our best to make sure you’re a good person, not to police your identity.”

“Your mom is right. Your gender—whatever it is—is entirely yours to define, and we respect that. Boy, girl, nonbinary, agender, whatever, you are our child and we love you.”

“But we aren’t brushing this off, either. This is clearly important to you—anything that involves Level Three Hot Cocoa is a big deal. It’s important to you, so it’s important to us, but we don’t want to rush you into anything you aren’t comfortable with or aren’t ready for. You’re in the driver’s seat here, and you get to set the pace.”

“Would you like to go by a different name?” Combeferre asks. “Or different pronouns?”

“We aren’t trying to pressure you or overwhelm you, honey, we just want to make sure that you’re comfortable. If there’s one place in the world you should be able to be completely safe and comfortable and accepted, it’s here.”

“…I don’t really know about names and pronouns and stuff. I’ve thought about it, but I haven’t reached any conclusions yet.”

“Okay. As soon as you do, you can tell us. And if you want to give some things a trial run to see how they feel, you can do that too. Whatever is most comfortable for you.”

Geoffrey gazes down into their mug. “What would you have named me if I’d been designated female at birth?” They ask quietly.

“Hildegard.” Combeferre responds with a straight face.

“Really?”

“No, sweetie, your mom is kidding. You would have been named Nora.”

“But that’s Nora’s name!”

“Yes, we gave that name to your sister.”

“You know,” Courfeyrac takes Geoffrey’s hand. “When I was pregnant with you, I had a really strong premonition about you. A gut feeling. So strong I told pretty much everyone and wrote about it in my diary. I was so sure you’d be a girl. I had nothing to base that on, but I was so sure. So we were surprised when you were born—not disappointed of course—but surprised. But now, it turns out I was right all along. I did give birth to a girl. But she couldn’t tell us that when she was born.”

“So I’m not gross or broken or unnatural or—“

“Oh, honey, no. Of course not. Not at all.” Combeferre pulls Geoffrey into a tight, protective hug.

“I mean, that polka dot and plaid combo you wore a few weeks ago— _that_ was a crime against nature. And no daughter of mine will ever leave this house looking like that again.”

“Am I your daughter?”

“Well, if you’re a girl and I’m still half of your Mom Team, that makes you my daughter, right? Unless you’d prefer something else. Apprentice? Dog-catcher? President pro tempore of the children’s union, based on the fact that you’re the longest serving?”

“Oooh, kiddo, you could be Speaker of the House! How about that?”

Geoffrey wraps an arm around each mom. “I think I’ll stick with daughter for now.”

Combeferre and Courfeyrac each place a kiss on their daughter’s cheek.

“We love you so, so, so much, kiddo.”

“Thank you for trusting us with this.”

“I love you too, moms.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm just really emotional about Courferre as moms. That's all.


End file.
